Knightclub's Holiday
by Voyageur
Summary: This is what happens when Knightclub takes a break from so much work.


Knightclub's Holiday

Written by Heather Carey

Knightclub Short story #2

Somewhere, deep in some peaceful forest, there was a place and organization of secrecy called Knightclub.

Now, the people of Knightclub were usually busy and bustling around, or even packing to go on adventures in forgotten lands and distant dimensions, ridding the places they travel to of strong evil. But this day was unusually quiet, so quiet that you can hear the rocks whispering. (Sometimes, they were even caught making snide comments about people who tread on them.)

In fact, today was considered a holiday. It was the first break from work the people of Knightclub had gotten in a year or two.

All of the members of Knightclub were gathered in the mess hall, staring out windows, playing solitaire, or even napping. Especially a part demon, part human by the name of Caleb Shadowbreath, who issued a loud and lazy sounding snore. His wing twitched slightly as he slumbered noisily.

Shaman grimaced. Often, this (also part demon with a tail) woman complained about the strain of her work and wished for some time to break free and smell the flowers. She got her wish, and the whole front of her scale mail armor was dusty and covered with pollen. She suddenly gained a mischievous grin, glancing at her cousin, Piaroa.

She placed a grain of pollen on the pointed tip of her tail, and with one flick, it landed on Piaroa's green and blue clothes.

Her snooty expression twisted. "_Heh… heh… HETCHOO_!" She sniffed, and then glared at Shaman, who was giggling away.

"Oh, be quiet," snarled Piaroa. She delivered a sharp kick to Shaman's shin. Her laughter turned into sobs.

"You MEANER! That hurt," She wailed. Everyone glanced over at them to see some action.

But soon, the leaders of Knightclub came storming in through the door. Both of them wore helmets with their eyes glowing through, black shiny armor, and dark capes.

The smaller leader's—her name was Trance—eerie blue glowing eyes seemed to bore through both demons' skins. The bigger leader—his name was Sinister—held his blazing red eyes on the sniffling Shaman.

Both women pointed accusing fingers at each other.

Trance sighed, as if she were expecting it. Both Piaroa and Shaman despised each other.

Sinister picked up the two women by their arms. "_You two. Hug in apology_," He commanded curtly. The part demon women made faces, but when they were dropped, they hugged begrudgingly. Sinister was still staring them down ominously, so the two of them smiled at each other forcefully. He seemed satisfied of their punishment.

Caleb Shadowbreath awoke with a start. "Huh-who-what…" He looked around and mumbled, "Oh."

Trance stepped up to speak. "You all must be bored of your holiday, are you not?" She looked around at the room's lazy occupants.

"Hear, hear," called Teal, who suppressed a yawn. Her long, amethyst hair was frizzled from lying down.

Soon, the whole room seemed to murmur in agreement. Even Fiala, who was normally shy, chatted animatedly to her sister, Tyla.

"_Er-ehm_," Sinister said loudly to point everyone's attention back to Trance.

"I was about to suggest that we all go on a mission to relieve ourselves of our idleness," Trance began. Shaman frowned. She'd rather sniff more flowers.

"But," Trance said suddenly, "Too many missions is why this holiday is here." A sigh of relief spread through the crowd.

Agent One and Agent Two, two Halfling agents with imported devices called "Walkie-talkies," appeared at the door.

"Agent Two to Trance, we have arrived," He informed Trance. His voice sounded as if he were speaking quickly on one tone of voice. "Agent One reporting for duty," Said Agent One, also with the same voice. Trance nodded.

"Any suggestions, anyone?'

Teal raised a hand. "How about we sing?" Tyla and Shaman agreed with Teal, nodding vigorously. Piaroa, however, cast pleading looks at Trance. She considered.

"Very well, then," She concluded finally.

Soon, the whole room broke into song, some singing awkwardly and off key.

"_On top of Spaghetti,_

_All covered with cheese,_

_I lost my poor meatball_

_When somebody sneezed—"_

"Different song," Trance and Sinister said almost at once. Caleb muttered something. He liked that song.

"_My friend, the witch doctor,_

_He told me what to say,_

_My friend the witch doctor,_

_He told me what to do._

_He said,_

_Ooh eeh ooh ah ah_

_Ting tang walla walla bing bang_

_Ooh eeh ooh ah ah_

_Ting tang walla walla bing bang!"_

"Please, no more singing," Warbled Piaroa with her hands over her ears. Tyla flicked a look over at Piaroa. She liked Piaroa, but enjoyed singing more.

"Any more suggestions?" Trance's helmeted head looked around for volunteers.

Fiala raised a self-conscious hand. "May we go swimming?"

"Well…" Trance seemed indecisive.

"_PLEEEAAAASSSEEE_," Begged Shaman.

Trance sighed. "Yes."

It had taken less than 20 minutes for everyone to get into their bathing gear. (Trance and Sinister still kept their armor on, including their capes. Both agents wore swimming Trunks, a child's size 4, but still kept their walkie-talkies.) Shaman, who cannot swim, was wearing a dragon float around her waist. People looked at her with amusement, especially, Piaroa, but other than that, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

They all splashed around and had fun in the cool water. Even Trance and Sinister swam around, but with all of their armor on.

For Agent One and Agent Two, the point of Marco Polo was lost. They always communicated to each other with their imported talking devices. They never really found each other, except for one time when Agent One bumped into Agent Two by accident.

Everything was peaceful and enjoyable until Sinister started wrestling a group of sharks. Even though the sharks ended up losing (and found themselves airborne), they all had to go back.

"I'm _bored_," Whined Caleb, who was playing his thirteenth game of solitaire. Even Piaroa nodded sullenly.

"Can we go zombie hunting," Asked Tyla. Shaman cringed and shivered, she was mortally afraid of zombies. "Never mind," She said, crestfallen.

"We could all explore," Suggested Teal. Fiala shook her head. "No, too much of that is the cause of this holiday."

The people of Knightclub all sat lazily, wallowing in their boredom. Suddenly, Trance seemed to look up warily. She seemed to sense another presence nearby. Shaman suddenly felt apprehensive. It was the person who was absent all through the story. It was her half-sister, Melee.

Something seemed to burst through the door like a firecracker, and there was insane laughter everywhere. A blur of red, yellow, and black darted around the room, bouncing from the walls and up and down from the ceiling to the floor. There was a million of them—no, one thousand—no, a hundred and twelve—

Actually, it was just one.

The mayhem seemed to cease all at once, and the source of it all came from the oddest looking creature ever laid eyes on. He/she/it (She for now) had yellow long hair, red eyes (crossed, giving her a comical appearance), pure charcoal black skin, and a swishing black tail and a pair of triangular pointed horns. "Caterpillars, caterpillars, caterpillars," Melee sang loudly, flailing her arms around.

"We might as well ask her for a suggestion for what to do," Trance said sorrowfully. And Melee answered with…

"DANCE PARTY! CARROTS!"

Everyone in the room groaned, "Oh, _no_!"


End file.
